Sea of Sighs (Empath Book 2) (16 page)

Eden went cold. Sammah was clearly insane.
His voice had raised high to a fever pitch, and even his hair was
starting to fray. Eden didn’t realise he was gripping the window
bars then, and his knuckles turned white. The padding of feet came
down the corridor, and Eden looked up to see three guards rushing
towards him.

“We heard a commotion, is everything okay,
my lord?”

Eden waved them down, but he suddenly felt
exhausted. “Everything is fine.” He shot a look at Sammah, “The
baron was just having a bit of a rant, that’s all. The senseless
ramblings of a doomed man.”

The front guard heaved a sigh of relief. “Is
that all? He’s been like that since he got here. I was tempted to
gag him, but the guard captain told me nay.”

“That’s just as well. We don’t want to be
accused of brutality when his replacement comes to court. He’s out
for blood, and we don’t want to give him any excuses to levy
accusations against Everfell.”

“
You
can
’
t stop it,
”
Sammah cackled from behind the door. “War is coming,
whether you like it or not! Prepare yourself, Eden. You have a
chance, because you’
ve got Quinn
’s heart.
You’ll be able to choose the winning side, just make sure you do it
at the right time.”

Eden closed his eyes, feeling pity for
Sammah’s skewed view of the world around him. “
You can
’t bring Quinn into this, and you can’t use
her against me. She’s been used her entire life, and she hates you
for it. You’ve lost her forever, and with that, you’ve lost the
only thing you had to help you win.”

“I didn’t need Quinn to succeed. I told you.
She was just the catalyst. And I may have lost her, but so have
you. She’s not here; she’s not with you. She’s on her way to
Sha’sek. And if she survives the triad of mercenaries I have sent
after her, she’s incredibly unlikely to ever return here.”

Eden’s fists bruised against the door again.
“You wouldn’t! You bastard.”

“Don’
t worry
,
Eden. If Ross got to them in time, then I’m sure Quinn will be
fine. Whether she survives the Sea of Sighs is another thing
entirely.”

Eden stormed out of the gaols without
another word, heading back to the Great Hall and the Spring Ball,
which was no doubt still in full swing. He certainly had the urge
to drink some wine, and finding out who his allies were had
suddenly become a much more
important
task.

“Has she finished being
sick yet?”

Maertn rubbed on Quinn’s back as she hung
over the side of the ship. The crossing wasn’t rough. Ross had
actually thought that, so far, it was smooth sailing. Quinn,
however, had turned pale as soon as she set foot on the gangplanks,
and had spent most of her time since they left port throwing
up.

“I’d like to stop vomiting now.”

“Here, try and stand up.”

Maertn pulled her up, and Quinn turned,
leaning against the rail and belching. She rushed her hand to her
mouth. Maertn, used to this and worse from his patients, didn’t
even react. Ross looked her up and down. She looked exhausted.
Unsurprising, since she’d only managed to snatch a few hours’ sleep
in between her waves of nausea so far.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I will be, once we get to Sha’sek.” The
deck rolled, and Quinn staggered. She turned back over the rail,
and Ross thought she was going to be sick again, but all that came
out were dry heaves. After a few minutes, she tried turning to them
again.

“Give me something to do, Ross. I need to
take my mind off this.”

“Come on. I’ve got an idea.”

Rather than watching Quinn trying to
traverse the deck, which Ross had seen once, and never wanted to
see again, he picked her up and carried her. She protested, but
only weakly. Her pride only lasted to a point, and it was a much
safer way for her to travel on board.

Ross carried her down into his cabin and
placed her on his thin bunk.

“Wait here.”

With nothing else to do, Quinn did as she
was bid, trying to concentrate on anything but the rolling motion
of the boat. Ross wasn’t gone long, and she was surprised to see
him come back with Sammah’
s
mercenary.

“Not down here.”

“What do you mean?”

Quinn shook her head, swallowing down some
bile. “If you want me to read him, I can’t do it in here. The room
is too small. The air…if I’m sick, I want to be near the side.”

Ross rolled his eyes. “You want me to carry
you all the way back to where we were?”

“Take me to the bow.”

“You do
know
which bit of the ship
that is? That’ll be moving the most.”

“
Then I
’ll know if
this will actually do any good. Please, Ross?”

Not seeing any other solution if he wanted
Quinn to try to read the man, Ross picked her up again. She
protested louder this time, but Ross didn’t want to dawdle. He
glanced over his shoulder, expecting the mercenary to follow; he
did.

They dodged past sailors as they went, but
the simple voyage meant they were calm, and even enjoying
themselves. The Sighs, as it stood, were not living up to their
fearsome reputation.

Reaching the bow, Ross sat Quinn down on a
crate. He squinted at the horizon, shading his eyes from the sun.
“Is that fog?”

Quinn didn’t bother looking. “In this
weather? I doubt it.”

“Come on then. You—stand there.”

The man did as he was told. Quinn struggled
to think the questions she had asked him so far, and the vague
responses she’d gauged. Instead of trying to move on from an
uncertain point, she decided to start again from the beginning.

“You nod for yes, you shake your head from
side-to-side for no. Shake your hands at me if you can’t answer me.
Is that clear?” Quinn aped Ross's instructions to Elias in his
short trial. It seemed like an effective way to question a mute. He
nodded.

“You work for the B
aron
Sammah?
”

Nod
.

“Do you enjoy it?”

Hands.

“Do you take pleasure in your work?”

Grin. Nod.

“Have you murdered before?”

Nod.

“Were you sent to murder me?”

Shake.

Quinn cocked her head. The sword that had
come close to decapitating her had felt
very
certain.
“I’ll ask you again: were you sent to
murder me?”

Shake
.

It didn’t feel like a lie, either, and Quinn
let out a soft growl of frustration. In the horizon, there was a
haze. Some of the sailors were calling out. Perhaps Ross had been
right; there was a fog rolling in. Great; that was all Quinn
needed. She pushed on, letting go of all restraint on her power to
take in all the mercenary had to offer. She focused only on the man
in front of her. She wanted to read every facet of him.

He was an abhorrent man; Quinn had decided
that before today, but in seeing every facet of his soul, Quinn was
sure of it beyond doubt. She couldn’t find a single glimmer of
redemption. This man didn’t know remorse or guilt. She doubted he
had felt real fear in a long time.

“Do you know what it’s like to be
afraid?”

Nod
.

“Is it a long time since someone’s scared
you?”

Shake
. “

“Is that someone Ross?”

Shake
.

“Is it me?”

Nod
.

“Were you sent to kill my friends?”

Shake
.

This was frustrating. If he wasn’t sent to
kill any of them, then why had the mercenaries tried to hack them
all to death in the middle of the night?

“He must be lying. That can’t be the
truth.”

“As far as I can tell, he’s being completely
honest with me.”

Ross grunted in disbelief. “I’m not sure
how.”

Quinn bit her nails, completely distracted
now from the seasickness that had been enveloping her. She was in
her element. The sailors around her were becoming agitated. The fog
rolled in closer, thick and menacing.

“Were the men with you sent to kill any of
us?”

Nod
.

Ross stood upright at this response.

“So, you were sent as, what, some sort of
backup?”

Waggle.

“If your friends failed to kill us, were you
ordered to kill us instead?”

Shake
.

Quinn was frustrated. “Then what were you
there for!”

Waggle
.

“I didn’t need an answer to that
question.”

Quinn groaned. She felt a pressure in her
temples, and beads of sweat ran down the back of her neck. It could
have been sea spray; she didn’t feel hot. The questions, his
responses, were overwhelming her. She needed to know more.

“Have you murdered children before?”

Nod
.

“Because Sammah asked you to?”

Nod.

“Were they gifted?”

Nod.

“Were they
all
gifted?”

Shake.

“
Only
because Sammah asked you
to?”

Shake.

This last response angered Quinn. She could
feel it coming from the mercenary. His spite and hatred for life
was wrapping itself around her heart. Tendrils of fog were creeping
up on the deck now, and the occasional cries of the sailors broke
through Quinn’s obsessive haze.

“
The Sighs!
Beware!
”

“Quinn,”
Ross
cautioned,
“we should go below decks.” Quinn ignored him.
The mercenary was her focus, now. Ross tugged at her arm. “Quinn?
It’s not safe up here.”

Quinn turned to look at him, and Ross fell
back to the decking in shock. Her eyes were completely black. Red
and purple veins bled out from her eye sockets, spreading across
her forehead and cheeks. She looked like death incarnate.

“He’s a murderer, Ross. Sammah was making
him murder my kind.”

“He didn’t have a choice.”

“He
enjoyed
it Ross. I can feel it.
He
told
me. He didn’
t lie.
”

“He’s not killing anyone now, Quinn.”

“He’s not going to kill anyone ever
again.”

Quinn turned to the mercenary. The man
didn’t look so smug, so strong, and sure now. At seeing Quinn’s
face he dropped to his knees. His mouth opened, his blunt tongue
stabbing out, as if he wanted to yell in alarm.

“What’s wrong? Have you forgotten what it’s
like to feel frightened? Don’t you want to know what it felt like
to be the children you murdered? How I felt when one of your
friends nearly took my head off with their blade?”

The link between them was still open; Quinn
could feel the hatred bleeding between them. The fog of the Sighs
wrapped around her, whispering in her ear. It whirled around her
head, carrying a soft male voice. It oozed confident conviction.
This is what you are Quinn. This is what you can be. You can
stop men like this. You can do what you want.

“What are you going to do, Quinn?”

Quinn cocked her head. “What I want,
Ross.”

“Quinn, this isn’t you. Please. It’s the
Sighs. Come with me below deck.”

“Not yet. I need our…friend to do
something.”

“Quinn! Stop! You don’t know what
you’
re doing!
”

You know exactly what you’re doing Quinn.
You want this. He deserves it.

Quinn grinned at the mercenary. “You don’t
deserve to live. Jump overboard.”

The mercenary got to his feet. Ross yelled
in protest, but the ship rolled violently. He staggered backwards,
falling into the ship’s rail. Wordlessly, unable to cry out, the
mercenary backed himself into the point of the bow.

“Jump overboard,” Quinn commanded again. His
mouth wide in panic, shock, fear—all emotions Quinn could feel
spilling towards her—he did as she commanded.

As he slipped away, so did the fog. Quinn
dropped to the decking, pain splitting her temples. Ross skidded to
her, tears staining his cheeks.

“Oh, Quinn, what have you done?”

“It looks just like
Everfell.”

Maertn stood with his hand on his hips
surveying Farn, which stretched out in the distance. Quinn was on
her hands and knees, kissing the ground. Maertn crouched, rubbing
her back with the palm of his hand. Quinn continued to retch, bile
spewing out of her mouth onto the pebbles. “This bit,” she said in
between heaves, “looks different.”

“Our beaches are sandy,” Maertn said
absentmindedly. “The city up there,” he nodded towards the horizon,
“looks just like any other city. I thought this place would be
different, Ross?”

Ross was throwing their bags from a small
rowing boat, which they had used to get off the ship, onto the
beach. It was a slim chance, but he hoped to avoid having to
declare his arrival in Farn, along with his young cargo, before
he’d had a chance to sneak himself to the council. Ross looked down
at Quinn. “You’re off the ship now, lass, you can stop being
sick.”

Quinn shot a look at Ross, but the movement
made her nauseous and she couldn’t get a word out before she was
sick again. It had stop at some point; there was nothing left in
her stomach. All of her muscles ached. Her stomach had been torn by
her nausea, and the rest of her had felt lethargic and heavy ever
since the Sighs had overwhelmed her.

“Maertn, the walls might look different, but
the inside—let’s just say you’re in for a pleasant surprise.
Besides, this will look so similar because the stones used to build
it came from Daggerdale.”

“Really? Why didn’t they just mine their own
stone?”

“Look around you lad, it’s an island. Where
do you think they’d get it from? Farn is mostly chalk. Nothing here
that you can build with. They had to import it, in ships like the
one we just came in. Imagine how much that weighed, and how many
ships it took to build something that size?”